


Winter time

by Shaybee2



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baking, Christmas Fluff, Cooking, Established Relationship, M/M, Mentioned Greg Lestrade - Freeform, Mentioned Mycroft Holmes, Mentioned mrs. Hudson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 03:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8515942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaybee2/pseuds/Shaybee2
Summary: John was being ridiculous again. Well not completely ridiculous. Actually it was rather endearing. He was going through his winter phase again. Winter was probably was of the most irritating to be around John.





	

John was being ridiculous again. Well not completely ridiculous. Actually it was rather endearing. He was going through his winter phase again. Winter was probably was of the most irritating to be around John. He would go through a phase where every day he would bake something new, and then make sure the entire thing he baked was consumed that night. The flat would constantly smell like sugar, cinnamon, chocolate and vanilla essence during this time. There would be trays covering the table where Sherlock would usually have his experiments running, the counter top would a thin layer of white flour on the top, the fridge would be filled with different types of ingredients making it impossible for Sherlock to store anything in there.   
Mrs. Hudson really enjoyed John at this time. He was a lot more allocating to her meddling in the flat. She would hover over him every now and then, telling him which kind of chocolate would be best for this simple dessert, or what brand of butter was more "buttery" out of all of them. The only time Sherlock had some sort of input on this whole thing, was when John would grab an inferior jar of honey for the honey cakes. Sherlock couldn't have that happening. Sherlock wouldn't be surprised during this time if he found John and Mrs. H floating around the kitchen with a pot of tea steeping in the corner of the counter, and her hovering over John as he creamed butter and brown sugar together.

Lestrade usually hung around a little more at this time, and Mycroft too. Sherlock's annoyance at there presence could be felt all across London. Lestrade would knock on the door in guise of apparently having a case for Sherlock, usually it was a cold one he dug up somewhere. He would sit on the couch as John fed him cake, biscuits, or a slice of tart, with either a coffee or tea to compliment the flavours. Mycroft, would just come to show his "concern", when really all he wanted was whatever baked good John had whipped up in the kitchen that day. It would take at least two to three slices of whatever cake or pie that was cooling on the counter for Mycroft to leave. There would even be a subtle request from Mycroft for the next time he came over, and John stupidly enough ended up cooking it for the bastard anyway.

The only good thing about this whole cooking thing was the fact John got softer. Not only in demeanor. He was softer everywhere. He would gain this small amount of fat on his stomach and behind that seemed almost luscious. Sherlock would be transfixed for what felt like hours as he watched John sway around the kitchen, high on life as he mixed something in a bowl and then looked down into his cook book, re-reading the same method for the third time. Sherlock would have to surpress a little groan when he saw John bend over the oven to check on whatever thing was baking in the over. The way his pants would be a little more snug when he bent over was like Sherlock's little personal hell. John, so unassuming and so innocent in his little cooking world, would never dream up the little illicit fantasies that Sherlock was concoting in his mind. Sherlock would sit at the kitchen table, pretending to read whatever report was in his hands, as John hummed away in the kitchen. Sherlock would watch as John licked his fingers free of melted chocolate, wipe away flour from his face, and smile over at him when he caught Sherlock gazing in his direction every now and then. John was intoxicating in the kitchen. He would always smell of whatever he baked of for the day. Usually John smelt of black pepper and bergamot from the shampoo he used in the shower. But during winter, it was cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. It was the warmest smell in the world. Late at night when Sherlock would crawl into bed right behind John, he would nuzzle up so close to John and still smell the seductive spices lingering on his skin.  
It usually took about three weeks before Sherlock cracked, and he would have to take control of the situation. It was usually close to Christmas, and John would have decorated the flat with garlands and wreaths. He seemed to like the more contemporary colours that had come out in more recent years. Sticking to copper, gold, silver, black and turquoise, little wooden LED lights hanging delicately, the house looked festive and vibrant. The black christmas tree in the corner of the flat, baubles shining brightly from the stark contrast. John had obviously chosen the colours he liked for the theme, with Sherlock in mind. Cold colours mixed with warm ones, both standing out side by side but complimenting, it just felt like them on a christmas tree. Sherlock being the cold blues, silvers and blacks, and John the warm coppers and gold, even the small wood LED snowflakes were a warm reminder of John. 

Sherlock snapped this year when John has just finished frying up a batch of honey bites. Sherlock watched as John took one of the bites and popped into his mouth with a crunch. John hummed happily to himself in bliss as the sweet flavour bursted over his tongue. Sherlock had been trying so hard not to jump John when he smelt cardamon on the air and the sweetness of orange blossom water, rose water and red gum honey that Sherlock had gotten from an australian client. 

 

"Oh my god, these are amazing." John hummed happily into another crispy bite.

 

Sherlock groaned and jumped up from his chair. He took quick strides over to the kitchen and stood over John. John gulped the last bite in surprise and smiled, small little innocent grin as he grabbed a bite and offered it to Sherlock. Sherlock leaned in and took the offered bite from John's fingers. The sweet honey glaze and burst of orange bloosom cascaded over his tongue as he crunched into the bite. Sherlock raked his tongue over the honey coating on John's fingers, softly sucking the tips of them. John's pupils dilated, and his breathe deepened as Sherlock stared down at him intently as he gave one last suck to the fingers, before releasing them. John launched himself at Sherlock lips as soon as he finger were released. Sherlock grabbed the back of John's neck, plastering him to the front of him. Sherlock raked his tongue over John's bottom lip, earning a groan from him. Sherlock was feeling so high, the taste of honey and rose water on John, the soft emitted groans from him. It was all so intoxicating. Sherlock pushed John up against the table, lifting him up to sit on it. John leaned back, feeling overwhelmed as Sherlock dominated the kiss. Sherlock nibbled John's bottom lip softly, his hand burying itsef into the back of John's hair, the other grabbing him around the waist pulling him in close. Sherlock moaned as he felt John wrap his legs arond his waist creating pressure against their groins.   
Sherlock pushed John further against the table his hands running down to John's belt, his mouth now moving against John's neck, sucking, biting, pretty much just devouring as much of John as he could. Here against John's neck was the taste of sugary, buttery dough, most likely had gotten some smeared there during the cooking process. Sherlock felt as John's hands were now at the hem on his tight trousers, pulling the black slim fit shirt of them, as he was quickly un-zipping John's trousers and trying to pull them down along with his red pants that he seemed to favour. John had now slipped the buttons of Sherlock's shirt, exposing his chest. Hands ran down to the trousers again and quickly made work of the button and fly. He cupped Sherlock's cock, teasingly tracing against the seam of his pants, near the head.   
Sherlock growled in irritation with John's hands and grabbed both of them quickly and placed them above his head against the table. He confined them into one grip tightly, the other wandering down John's chest, pulling up the thick bulky sweater and shirt. Sherlock, placed soft kisses against the newly exposed skin. John struggled against Sherlock's grip slightly, as he felt lips against one of his nipples, and a hand now pulling against his cock. He whined slightly into his throat as Sherlock ran the tip of his thumb against the head smearing pre come over the head. Sherlock started thrusting slightly against John, trying to relieve the pressure in his groin. 

Sherlock removed his mouth from John's chest with a sharp nip, earning another soft whine from John. He smirked down at John's flushed face a glazed eyes. He let go of John's length and pulled himself out of his pants. Sherlock grabbed himself and John into his hand and started thrusting and stroking in time. John moaned underneath him again, trying to break free of Sherlock's grip to at least grab a hold of him. Sherlock slipped his fingers across there heads, fluid leaking copiously out of them now. Sherlock could feel his hips stuttering against John now, his breath almost puffing harshly out of him. He couldn't stop looking into John's dark eyes. Sherlock felt theat building up intensly, he knew he wasn't going to last any longer, and by the looks of it neither was John. He brought his lips down to John's, completely consuming him. Sherlock thought John was trying to suck the life away fom him in the kiss. Their tongues slipped over each other, John's teeth grazed over his lips. The taste of honey and rosewater pulling him under, nearly drowning him. John groaned long and hard as he spilled into Sherlock's hand, his body pulsating and trembling with release. Sherlock chased after John, cresting in pleasure as he watched John completely slip in his control. 

Sherlock felt himself collapse against John in exhaustion, his hold of John's wrists loosening into a limp hold. John and Sherlock breathed in heavily together on the table, Sherlock listening to John's rapidly beating heart. He could feel John's shifting slightly underneath him, his hands burying themselves into the dark curls on top of his head lovingly. John wriggled again uncomfortable, signalling that he was starting to get very stiff and sore on the table. Sherlock shook his head from his orgasmic bliss and removed himself off John's, helping him off the table as well. John quickly rearranged his jumper, trousers and pants, tucking himsef delicately back in. Sherlock walked over to the sink and washed his hands as John fxed himself.  
Sherlock turned back around at John, who was now all pink cheeked and smiles. He watched as John moved closer to him, kissing his cheek softly, as he tucked Sherlock back into his pants, chuckling to himself. Sherlock picked one of he honey bites off the counter an popped it into his mouth. 

 

"These are delicious, John." Sherlock mumbled wit his mouth full.

 

"I know." John chuckled as he did up the button and fly on Sherlock's trousers.

 

"Don't give any of these to Mycroft or Lestrade." Sherlock said, popping another one into his mouth.

 

"They will probably all get eaten before one of them comes over again." John laughed patting Sherlock's chest.

 

"Even so, don't even make them when they're around. They're mine." Sherlock smirked looking down at John's warm smile.

 

"Only yours, Sherlock." John spoke softly, placing a small kiss across Sherlock's swollen lips.

 

"Good." Sherlock hummed as he grabbed the plate and took it over with him to the couch.

 

Sherlock watched from his chair as John tidied up in the kitchen, wiping over the benches and table. Sherlock finished the entire plate of honey bites happily. He knew John's baking phase would last another month and half before he noticed the weight gain. Sherlock knew in that time he would loose control again quite a few times, he just hoped that the visits from Lestrade and Mycroft would lessen during this time though. Sherlock liked having John completely his during the time. It was annoying all this baking stuff. It was utterly ridiculous, but John was his ridiculous man, and he preferred to keep it that way.   
They were very much like the christmas tree standing in the corner of their flat he noted again. The warm golds, coppers and natural woods were John shining out, complimenting Sherlock's cold silvers, blacks and turquoises. Sherlock smiled to himself as he looked back over at John bringing him a mug of lemongrass and ginger tea over to him.

 

"What are you smiling about." John asked with an amused grin.

 

"Colours that compliment each other." Sherlock answered, causing a confused look on John's face.

 

"Any reason why?" John chuckled as he placed the tea on the coffee table.

 

"Just a study I have conducted recently." Sherlock says taking his tea and blowing. Smiling over at John who looks at the tree and grinning happily.

 

"Cute." John whispered to himself with a warm look to his face, probably thinking that Sherlock hadn't heard him. 

 

Sherlock dipped his fingers into the glaze on the plate that was left over, and thought to himself that John being ridiculous was always something he would look forward to. year after year.


End file.
